


Voices Pulled From Air

by stuffy_j



Series: Reaper76 Week [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Depression, Flashbacks, Gabriel is a late night radio DJ, Insomnia, Jack and Gabe are ex-soldiers, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reaper76 Week, Vaguely set in current times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 22:08:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9404960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffy_j/pseuds/stuffy_j
Summary: Jack Morrison is a depressed ex-soldier with PTSD and insomnia. Gabriel is an ex-soldier-turned-late-night-radio-host with insomnia.“It’s now almost three in the morning, and let me just tell you all something: these shifts go a hell of a lot more smoothly than the last time I stayed up until this time on the regular. Being on night watch while on tour was definitely a lot less fun than looking up and playing excellent music for several hours.” Gabriel chuckled again, and Jack shot up, staring wide-eyed at the radio, as though it could show him the radio host. He’d also been on tour? Had spent countless days in a desert that knew only sun and dry, scorching wind, had shaken sand out of his boots after a long day of drills, had watched the same battered movies over and over again to dull the numbness of interminable routine?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ooooooh my god you guys, I am soooo sorry this is so late. Writing this took me FOREVER. It's also my longest story so far, at a whopping 21 pages on GoogleDocs, so I'm counting that as like, a half-win in my book. But now I'm behind by a day on Reaper76 week!!!! Augh!!!
> 
> Written for Day 5 of Reaper76 Week: "Over the Air" - Voice/Music
> 
> Title taken from Nick Flynn's poem ["Radio Thin Air."](http://thesyntxofthings.tumblr.com/post/54886255717/radio-thin-air-by-nick-flynn)
> 
> Just as a disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing about running a late night radio show. I know next to nothing about running a radio show in general. So if I got stuff wrong, just know that I literally pulled this all out of my ass in under 24 hours.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy! I would love to know what you guys think, so please feel free to leave a comment!
> 
> I'm [edgedadhell](https://edgedadhell.tumblr.com) on tumblr. Feel free to stop by!
> 
> UPDATE EDIT 1/28/2018: THIS FIC NOW HAS ART!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!! Everyone go show [Shana](https://shanablackrx.tumblr.com) a ton of love for their absolutely amazing art!!!! They have been such a wonderful friend, and I am so grateful for their support and love over the past year. You're the best, Shana!!!!!! <3 <3

Jack stared at the darkened corners of his apartment’s ceilings. The light of the television cast eerie shadows up the walls, colors shifting. He idly wondered if this was what being an aquarium felt like, just constant undulating colors.

He rubbed at his burning eyes. God, he was exhausted. All he wanted was to be able to close his eyes and fall into a dreamless sleep--but he couldn’t. His nights were never dreamless, not anymore, filled with shouts and sand and fear, the heat of fire along the side of his face and the screams of dying men. Jack sighed, shifting on the couch, trying to banish the screams from his mind. The clock read 1:47 AM in wide green numbers. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to sleep more than two hours in a row.

The infomercial on the TV ended, the eternally smiling salesperson replaced by a short clip featuring the movie that was about to start playing. One of the _Rambo_ ’s, it looked like, the scene showing Sylvester Stallone in a jungle with a machine gun, yelling as he shot down wave after wave of faceless soldiers. Jack hurriedly turned the TV off, setting the remote back down and getting up to wander restlessly around his small apartment.

Kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom. He paced them all methodically in the dark, trying to move to keep the memories in his brain at bay. But he couldn’t move fast enough, had to keep turning corners, avoid furniture, go into and out of room after room because there wasn’t enough space, he was trapped, cornered, useless while the others fought and died, screamed and died, ran and died, and it should’ve been him, not them, he was supposed to burn and die and scream--

Jack stopped, panting, clutching the back of the worn out couch in his hands, knuckles white and tense as he fought to control himself. What had that one therapist recommended? Right, breathing, focus on the inhale, one, two, three, four, five, focus on the exhale, five, four, three, two, one. Jack breathed, counting out five breaths before his grip relaxed, releasing the couch. He needed something else to distract him. Something filled with chatter, with noise, to combat the noise in his own mind.

Walking into the kitchen again--not much of a kitchen, honestly, more of a small galley with a two-burner stove, a small refrigerator, and a sink--he picked up the old radio he’d found at the thrift store one day. It still worked great, it was just ugly as sin. Plugging it into the wall in the living room, Jack sat on the couch, holding the damn thing in his hands as it hissed to life, crackling slightly. He pressed the button for AM/FM radio mode, searching for a station that wasn’t just hisses and pops on the airwaves.

“--nd thanks for tuning in,” a voice said, clear and low and startling in the silence of Jack’s apartment. He jumped, nearly dropping the radio on the ground as the voice continued. “I’m your host, Gabriel Reyes, and you’re listening to the Late Night Mix on WJTU Radio, bringing you the best tunes and talk you can get at 2:32 in the morning. And I can say they’re the best tunes and talk at this time, because I’m pretty sure I’m the _only_ show in the area that’s actually coming to you live right now.” The voice chuckled, deep and warm, and Jack felt his lips quirk in an involuntary smile. He set the radio down on the coffee table. Yeah, this would do nicely.

Stretching back out on the couch, Jack looked up at the darkened ceiling and listened to the host--Gabriel--chat for a few minutes about something--sounded like car troubles he was having, maybe--before putting on some music. The bass was driving, the notes slipping over the rhythm without a clear pattern, the voice of the singer passionate and clear. Jack closed his eyes, bobbing his head slightly to the beat. The song was repetitive enough to be soothing without being so repetitive that he could tune it out. It was perfect.

The songs stretched into one another, no clear pattern or theme to the choices Gabriel was making, but they clearly _fit_ together somehow. And Gabriel didn’t discriminate over music styles, either. In between the first and third song, Gabriel played a popular pop song, the singer’s voice high and sweet and singing about first loves. But it worked, even when the third song had no vocals at all, just a complicated and beautiful drumline weaving its way through.

“And welcome back,” Gabriel said, voice growly and perfect over the airwaves. “If any of you ever want to know what a particular song is, I put all my playlists up online on the WJTU website. Just look for the link to the Late Night Mix, and you’ll be able to find them.

“It’s now almost three in the morning, and let me just tell you all something: these shifts go a hell of a lot more smoothly than the last time I stayed up until this time on the regular. Being on night watch while on tour was definitely a lot less fun than looking up and playing excellent music for several hours.” Gabriel chuckled again, and Jack shot up, staring wide-eyed at the radio, as though it could show him the radio host. He’d also been on tour? Had spent countless days in a desert that knew only sun and dry, scorching wind, had shaken sand out of his boots after a long day of drills, had watched the same battered movies over and over again to dull the numbness of interminable routine?

Jack wondered if Gabriel had seen any action, if he’d gotten lucky and everyone had come back alive. He wondered how scarred the other man was, inside and out.

Gabriel had moved on to another topic now, talking about needing some new blackout curtains or something like that. “But enough about that, let’s move on to some music now. Hope you’re all have a great night, and thanks again for tuning in.” His voice stopped, and music took over again. Jack laid back down on the couch. He felt tired now, so he closed his eyes, let the music wash over him. He drifted off to sleep, his only dreams about endless stretches of sand and dirt, faint mountains in the distance. The mountains were on fire, but that was fine. Everything was fine.

\---------------------------------------------

Jack listened to Gabriel’s radio show every night it was on from 1am to 4am, which was every night except Sundays. He enjoyed the way the host was able to just seemingly talk to himself for hours on end and make it engaging, like he was actually talking face to face with his listeners instead of from some booth in a studio somewhere. Gabriel talked about anything and everything--the weather, sports, politics, his day, his family, different TV shows he watched, Lúcio, the DJ who came on  after him and gave Gabriel music tips--and occasionally he would drop hints about his time on tour.

Things like: “I don’t miss much about being there, but I do miss the stars. Just can’t see them here like you could out in all that empty space.”

“Man, I had an excellent dinner tonight, listeners. It’s amazing, but I still get so excited to eat something not coming from an MRE pouch.”

“I don’t like when it’s too quiet. Makes me jumpy. That’s why I took this job when I got back stateside.”

Jack treasured those tiny hints, hoarded them away inside him after every show. He knew it was stupid, but he felt connected to Gabriel. Like they were friends, and Gabriel was telling his story to get Jack to tell his. Jack knew he was being completely idiotic--the DJ had absolutely no idea that Jack even existed, let alone that Jack also had a military background. But Jack couldn’t help it, felt himself warming up inside whenever Gabriel’s show started and he opened with a smooth and friendly, “Welcome back guys, thanks for tuning in to Late Night Mix, I’m your host and current disc jockey Gabriel.”

The music was still amazing, but Jack longed to hear more of Gabriel, to listen to him tell a funny story, or discuss the hot topic issue of the day, to watch him over a cup of coffee and finally put a face to the voice.

And what wouldn’t he give to be able to talk back to Gabriel himself.

Gabriel’s voice broke over his thoughts, greeting his listeners through the speakers of the radio. “Got some interesting news for you all,” he said, a note of excitement in his voice. “Station management told me that I could use the phone if I wanted, let you guys call in and request songs, chat a bit if you want. So feel free to give me a ring at 891-429-1176 anytime between now and four a.m., it’d be nice to hear some voices other than my own for once.” He chuckled, his humor heedless of the sudden twin spirals of euphoria and doubt he’d flung Jack into.

He could talk to Gabriel? He could possibly talk directly to the man who’s voice he’d been listening to for weeks, the man he’d struck up a one-sided friendship with, the man who made the interminable hours between one and four a.m. bearable for the first time in months? Impulsively, Jack snatched up his cell phone, quickly typing in the number and pressing send, fear and excitement twisting through his insides and up his spine as he put the ringing phone to his ear.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang, and rang, and rang, and rang some more before Jack finally realized that the line was busy and cut the call. Probably for the best, anyway. What made Jack think Gabriel would even want to talk to him? What could Jack possibly say to him that would catch and keep the other man’s attention?

_Hi, my name’s Jack and I’m an insomniac, depressive mess of a human being who served two tours before being broken irrevocably and living when I should have died. Your radio show is the one bright spot in my life, and I would love to chat with you._

Yeah, that definitely wouldn’t make Gabriel hang up on him and block his number. Not at all.

He settled in to listen to the show. He hoped Gabriel talked about his cooking today. Jack liked hearing about his culinary adventures.

The next night, Gabriel again mentioned the new phone line. “Hey guys, thanks again to those who called in yesterday! I had a great time getting your song requests and chatting with a couple of you all, and it’s nice to know for a fact that I’m not actually just talking to the void out there. Again, the number is 891-429-1176 for anyone who wants to call in tonight.”

It was about halfway through the show when Jack sat up and grabbed his phone again. He’d try again, just this one last time, see if he could talk to Gabriel for thirty seconds, that was all he was asking for. The phone rang in his hand, which trembled slightly as he held it up to his ear.

The line clicked, the ringing stopping. “Hello?” Gabriel asked, his voice coming from both the phone’s speaker and the radio. Jack’s heart stopped. God, he sounded even better over the phone, how was that allowed?

Jack jolted as he realized he still hadn’t answered. Too much time had passed. The call was definitely not going well. “H-hi,” he said, stuttering as he cleared his throat. God, his voice was so rough right now, rusty with disuse and sounding like he had just swallowed about thirty pieces of glass and then gargled with them. “Hi,” he said again, slightly more confident this time, but then stopped as he realized he had no fucking clue what to say. “I-I wanted to request a song, please.”

“Sure thing. What did you want to request?”

Jack felt his mouth dry out completely, and he swallowed painfully. Thinking desperately, he tried to come up with a song, anything, that he wanted to hear. _Your voice_ , he almost said, but managed to stop himself. Silence reigned between the two.

Gabriel chuckled slightly, and Jack felt like he was melting, that rich laugh directly in his ear for once. “Alright then,” Gabriel said, “What’s your name?”

“J-jack,” he stuttered, cursing himself internally. God, how could he be such an idiot?

“Alright then,” Gabriel said, “This one goes out to you, Jack.” The line went dead, and a song Gabriel introduced as “Silent Movies” by Madisen Ward and the Mama Bear started playing over the radio instead.

Jack stared at his phone while the song played. And then he went and bought it immediately and listened to it five times in a row the next day. And at least once a day after that.

Jack didn’t call in again for a few weeks, mentally berating himself for sounding like a complete imbecile on live radio, and especially while talking to Gabriel. But he kept listening every night, letting Gabriel’s voice wash over him, listening even when the memories tried to drown the radio host out. And it helped. Knowing that Gabriel had also served, that he had come back and gotten a job, come back to his family and talked about his parents and sister with love in his voice, that he had come back and found a passion for music and was able to share it with others--it gave Jack hope. Maybe, he thought, if he could just learn a little more from Gabriel, learn a little more about being stronger, he could also get his shit together, expel the exhaustion that lived in his bones and the screams in his mind.

But that all came crashing down.

The day had started out fine--he had gotten a few more hours of uninterrupted sleep than he normally did, and the sun was shining. It was midway through fall, and the trees had started to change color, and the air held just a faint cold snap that was a refreshing change from the sweltering hot summer days.

Jack went to the grocery store, thinking about making a big meal for dinner, something hearty that he could have leftovers of for part of the week. Gabriel talked about enjoying cooking all the time, and Jack had to agree; there was just something so satisfying about making a meal that didn’t come from an MRE pouch.

Walking up and down the aisles of the store, Jack considered what he wanted to make. He thought about his mother’s chili recipe, how she would let it simmer for hours and fill the whole house back in Indiana with the smell of it, then serve it over fresh white rice and mix in cheese and sour cream. Yeah, that was perfect--something that required minimal effort, that Jack could make and then leave alone for a while, ease himself back into cooking big meals again.

A few employees were scattered around the store, restocking the shelves from large cardboard boxes. Jack edged his way past one of them in the narrow aisle, looking for a can of beans or two to make the chili. The worker finished stocking one box and turned to the next, ripping the cardboard apart with some sort of special box cutter, but the blade was dull and caught and dragged along the seam of the box. The strange, stuttered ripping noise filled the air like the report of a machine gun emptying its entire clip, oh god, where had the attack come from, had anyone been hit--

Jack dropped his basket, wondering why the fuck he was carrying fucking food around on base, scrambling for his gun. The smell of fire filled his nose, hot air and gunpowder as something exploded across the base from where he was. He could hear the machine guns still going, spraying bullets in every direction, and oh, god, no, Garcia was down, eyes staring blankly back up at Jack as a pool of blood slowly expanded underneath his body. St. Clair was up ahead, and Jack reached him just as the man let out his last breath, slumping against the wall, the curve of his lifeless body defeated.

Fuck, what was he supposed to do? Trapped, alone, weaponless--all he could hear was his own breath, panting desperately in his ear as he tried to think, tried to get a grip past the all-consuming fear that had overtaken him.

A hand touched his shoulder, and Jack whirled around, throwing out a wild punch at whoever was attacking him now. “Ow!” the person shouted, “What the hell, man!” Jack blinked, not expecting English. He blinked again, harder this time, as the grocery store stocker seemed to materialize in front of him, grabbing his reddened jaw and glaring at Jack. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir,” the worker ground out. “If you need someone to pick you up, please call them now.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Jack said, shaking with adrenaline and fear. He could still feel his heart pounding in his chest. “I-I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry, p-please, I’m sorry, you just startled me--” he cut himself off with a shake of his head, glancing down at the food he’d dropped on the ground before looking back up at the man--god, no, he looked like just a kid, a teenager trying to make some money with a part-time job, and he had just attacked him out of nowhere. “I’m sorry,” Jack said again, helplessly, and fled the store.

He didn’t know how long he sat on the floor in front of his couch, knees pulled up to his chest and his face pressed into them. He had called his doctor on the way back from the store--had somehow had the presence of mind to do so--but she hadn’t answered. Right, she had told him she would be on a trip this week, had referred him to one of her colleagues if he needed anything. Jack didn’t want to go to them. So he sat, and tried to not shake apart.

When he looked up again, it was dark. His stomach was empty, but he felt like if he tried to eat, he’d throw it all back up again. Glancing at the clock, Jack startled. It was almost one in the morning already! How long had he been sitting, blocking out the world? God, and he had almost missed the start of Gabriel’s show, and wouldn’t that have just been the perfect ending to a fucking perfect day. His muscles felt cramped and achy from being locked in one position for hours.

When he turned on the radio at one, Gabriel’s voice greeted him. Jack felt some of the tension slide out of him, but not all of it. It was harder to concentrate on Gabriel’s voice tonight, to listen to the music instead of the screams.

“Alright, listeners, I’m gonna let you guys have twenty minutes of uninterrupted music, because to be frank, I’m getting pretty sick and tired of listening to myself talk right now. And, as always, feel free to call in during the show!” Gabriel said, rattling off the station phone number again. Jack felt like he heard it from underwater. He reached for his phone, fingers almost numb as he dialed, put the device up to his ear when he heard it ringing.

“Hello?” he heard Gabriel say. “Just to let you know we’re not on air right now, but if you call back in about twenty minutes we will be.”

Jack took a deep breath. “Actually,” he said quietly into the phone, “I was just wondering if--if we could talk? I just, I need someone to talk to right now, if that’s okay.”

“Okay,” Gabriel said simply, and something unclenched in Jack’s chest, the unknown fear that Gabriel would brush him off dissipating with such a simple word. “What’s up? What’s your name?”

“I-my name’s Jack,” he said, suddenly wondering if Gabriel remembers him, or if he does remember him, if he thinks of Jack as the fucking idiot who called the station before.

“Jack ‘Silent Movies’?” Gabriel asked, surprise clear in his tone. Jack felt something warm burst inside his chest.

“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks for that, by the way. That song is perfect.”

“Of course, no problem at all,” Gabriel said, clearly pleased. “My buddy Lúcio, I’m sure you’ve heard me talk about him, he’s the one who introduced me to that band, and they’re definitely one of my favorites now. “

“Oh, I haven’t really--haven’t really had the chance to listen to more of their stuff,” Jack said, face flushing. God, he was grateful this conversation was happening over the phone so Gabriel couldn’t see him acting like a total dork.

“Then I’ll definitely play some more of their stuff in the next set!” Gabriel said, sounding fairly excited. “Man, thanks for letting me know, because I always spend these sets trying to figure out what exactly I’m playing for the next one, and sometimes it gets stressful.”

“Does it?” Jack asked, genuinely surprised. Gabriel always seemed to know the perfect songs to play. “I mean, I haven’t had any complaints about the selections, but I guess that’s just me.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Well, that’s good to hear at least. But yeah, there’s just so much music to choose from, and I never know if people want to hear more rock, or R&B, or maybe more indie stuff, the classics, whatever. That’s why I love when people call in with suggestions or requests, make it way easier to just press a button and play what they want right then.”

“Well, you seemed to know exactly what to play for me when I called in and had no idea what I wanted,” Jack said, a small smile on his face now. “Especially because I made a complete and total ass of myself while live on-air with you.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Gabriel said. “Did you want to make any other requests now? I have to go soon, unfortunately, because the set is finishing up.”

“O-oh, right,” Jack said, suddenly aware that he had just monopolized Gabriel’s time and now the other man would have to scramble to put together his next set list. “I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. No, I don’t have any other requests--just, whatever you want to put in there. I trust you,” he said, and was surprised to find he actually meant it. He trusted Gabriel, even though he’d never met him.

“Hey, no problem, Jack,” Gabriel said. “It’s always nice to talk to someone at this time of night, wouldn’t you agree? You should get some sleep--it’s getting pretty late. I’ll be sure to play something I think you’ll like.”

Jack smiled wryly. “Thanks,” he said, “I’ll try. Doesn’t always work, but I appreciate the thought.”

“Insomnia, huh?” Gabriel asked, and Jack made a noise in the affirmative. “Yeah, I get it. That sucks, I’m sorry. Hey, you know what? Here’s my cell phone number. Feel free to text if you want, or don’t. I know that it always helps to have someone to talk to when you can’t sleep.” He rattled off a set of numbers that Jack hastily copied down, too surprised to protest.

“Thanks,” he said. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“No, I didn’t,” said Gabriel, “But I wanted to. Talk to you later, Jack.” And he hung up the phone. Jack heard his voice come back on the radio as the final song of the set ended, but he wasn’t listening very closely. He stared down at the number in his hand for a few moments before quickly putting it into his phone. Then he stared at the number on his phone screen for a few moments, typing out a text and sending it. He laid down at the couch and stared at the darkened ceiling again, letting the music from the radio wash over him.

_To: Gabriel_

_ >>Thanks. --Jack _

\---------------------------------------------

Jack started texting Gabriel a lot. Much more than he had ever expected. And they talked on the phone, too, which Jack loved. He loved having Gabriel’s voice directly in his ear, loved being able to catch the other man’s laughter, the shifting cadence of his voice, the sly tone he took on whenever he teased Jack.

They often talked as Gabriel was heading to the radio station for his show, Jack refusing to speak until he was sure that Gabriel had placed the phone on speaker mode and had it in the specially designed clip that held it while he drove. He was not going to be the reason Gabriel crashed because he was too busy fiddling with his phone in some way.

Gabriel talked more about his family and other, more personal topics with Jack than he did on the radio. In return, Jack told him--slowly, haltingly--about also being ex-military, about his insomnia and the dreams he had. He didn’t tell Gabriel everything--didn’t want him to know just how messed up Jack really was, how he didn’t deserve to have survived while the rest of his unit didn’t--but Gabriel deserved to know at least a little bit.

“You really helped me, by the way,” Jack said shyly during one of their conversations.

“I did?” Gabriel asked.

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Just knowing that you--that you also served, and that you came back and are making it work--it’s meant a lot to me.”

Gabriel was silent for a while, and Jack grew nervous. Had he said something wrong? Did he reveal too much somehow? Oh god, Gabriel was going to ask him to never call again and hang up--

“I had help,” Gabriel said abruptly, breaking in on Jack’s increasingly spiraling thoughts. “I didn’t just come back and magically get my shit together all on my own. My family helped a lot, really encouraged me to work with my doctor, dealt with me when I was too caught up in my own head to deal with myself, that sort of thing. They helped me find something that interested me again, get the job at the station, just generally supported me, you know? Hell,” he chuckled, but there wasn’t any humor in it, “I don’t know where I’d be right now if I didn’t have them.”

Jack was quiet, had no idea what to say.

“What about you, Jack?” Gabriel said, breaking the silence once again. “Who do you have?”

“You,” Jack said quietly. It was the simplest truth.

Gabriel was quiet again, and Jack could hear the sounds of the road in the background of the call. “We should meet up,” Gabriel said finally. “I really want to meet you, put a face to the voice and all that. Where do you live?”

Startled, Jack gave his address, voice shaking slightly. What the fuck was he doing? Gabriel wanted to meet him? Why?

“Great,” Gabriel said, sounding pleased. “You’re actually not too far from me. You know the park on Preston Avenue, next to the library? Let’s meet there tomorrow, maybe around 2pm. That way we’ll both have had some sleep, but I’ll have plenty of time before I have to be back at the station. Sound good to you?”

“Y-yeah,” Jack said, dazed. “Works for me.”

“See you tomorrow, man,” Gabriel said. Jack mumbled something back and cut the call.

Entering his routine, Jack turned on the radio and climbed onto the couch, laying down on his back on it, but his mind was going a mile a minute. He was meeting up with Gabriel tomorrow. Gabriel, who had the best voice, told the best stories, could always pull a laugh out of Jack with his dry sense of humor. Gabriel, who had been Jack’s unintentional rock for months now. Gabriel, who provided hope to the hopeless, who could be moody or intense, who loved sharing music with others, who cursed about station management on a fairly regular basis. And Jack was meeting him tomorrow.

The hours until Jack left his apartment to head to the park seemed like they would never end, and also like they were going too fast. Jack showered, put on one of his nicer shirts--when was the last time he’d worn it?--and tried to brush his hair as best he could. He wanted to make a good impression on Gabriel, wanted the other man to like him.

The park was fairly empty when he got there, which wasn’t surprising--fall had settled in pretty heavily by now, and was creeping towards winter slowly but surely. Jack could taste snow on the air, was sure that there would be a few flakes sometime later this week. But for now it was pleasant in the sun, and he spotted a figure sitting at one of the scattered picnic tables in the park, two steaming coffees in front of them.

“Gabriel?” he asked, walking over. The figure turned around at his voice, and Jack nearly stopped short in surprise and awe. God, Gabriel was--Gabriel was absolutely gorgeous, even all bundled up like the cold was a personal affront to his being. A few dark curls spilled out of the beanie pulled over his head, the color matching the trimmed and stylish beard on his cheeks, his brown skin looking burnished in the sunlight. Dark, warm eyes looked at Jack for a moment before lighting up, and a smile stretched across his face. Jack felt like his knees might give out.

“Jack!” Gabriel said, getting up and waving at him. As soon as Jack got close enough, Gabriel embraced him before pointing at the opposite side of the table and the other coffee. “Picked that one up for you, had a feeling a warm drink would be what we both need in this godforsaken cold.”

Jack moved on autopilot, rounding the table and taking a seat, drawing the warm cup towards himself. He quirked a smile. “It’s not that cold, Gabriel,” he said, teasing.

“Yeah, well, I’m originally from LA, and then I spent four years in that godforsaken desert. Anything below sixty is freezing to me,” Gabriel retorted. Jack laughed and took a sip of his coffee.

“So then why’d you decide to move here?” he asked. “Is your family all back in LA? Didn’t they help you get back on your feet?”

“They did,” Gabriel said, nodding. “But I moved out here a couple of months ago. I love my family, but I had to get out of there eventually. My sister got married recently, and she and her husband moved in with my parents, and with me and my other little sister there as well, it was just too crowded.” He chuckled, clearly reminiscing. “And if I had to hear my sister and her husband have sex one more time through the very thin walls, I was going to go insane.”

He looked at Jack, suddenly serious again. “I’m grateful to them, that they picked me up when I needed it the most. And I’m also grateful to them that they let me go when I needed to go, too. Their support has never been conditional. So I moved out here, got a crappy apartment, took over the late night show because it was easier to just talk to myself and listen to music than it was to stare at the ceiling of my place and go insane. I’m sure you can relate.”

“Yeah,” Jack said simply, staring down at the wood of the table. He looked up at Gabriel again, meeting the other man’s eyes. “I guess I can.”

“So what about you? Where’re you from?”

Jack shifted in his seat. “Indiana,” he said, “From a farm outside Bloomington. Just me and my parents out there, kind of quiet, but nice. Well, until I hit high school,” he amended. “Then I couldn’t wait to get out. So I joined the army right after graduation, looking to just get the hell out of there. Stayed in there for eight years, got back stateside about six months ago.”

“Did you go home?”

“No.”

Jack looked down at the table again, tracing the pattern of the grain with his eyes. He could feel Gabriel’s gaze on him, a little too sharp and perceptive.

“Do your parents know you’re back?” he finally asked. Jack grimaced a bit.

“No. They’re dead. Died about three years into my service. Car accident. The county got the farm, sold it off. I came here after I was discharged.”

He felt Gabriel put one of his large hands over his own. Looking up, confused, Jack saw sincerity and understanding shining through those beautiful brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, Jack.”

Jack shrugged. “Thanks. Not much anyone could do, considering the circumstances,” he said. He really wanted to change the subject, but wasn’t sure how.

Gabriel seemed to sense his discomfort and easily switched topics, starting to talk about football. Jack hadn’t really been following much of the season, but he liked the way Gabriel seemed to appreciate the game for what it was. He also liked the way Gabriel didn’t take his hand off his own.

They chatted for another hour or so, before Gabriel announced that if he stayed outside any longer, he was going to turn into a popsicle. They both stood up, readying themselves to leave.

“Thanks for the coffee,” Jack said sincerely. “I owe you one.”

“Sure,” Gabriel said easily. “How about tomorrow?”

Jack looked at Gabriel wide-eyed. The other man wanted to hang out again? And so soon? “S-sure,” Jack said. “Uh, maybe we could go somewhere warm this time? Instead of sitting outside for an hour and a half?”

“I’d like that, Jackie,” Gabriel said, the nickname slipping out naturally. “Meet you at Mischa’s, the coffeeshop over on Turner Plaza? Two o’clock work for you again?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Jack said, a grin slipping over his face. Gabriel looked at him warmly, some expression Jack couldn’t identify in the light of his eyes.

“See you then,” he said, walking towards his car. Jack waved, a little dazed.

Listening to Gabriel’s show that night, he thought he could hear a little extra note of that _something_ in his voice, like the radio DJ had carried it all day until then.

\---------------------------------------------

They hung out in public places a lot, going to different coffeeshops and restaurants, sitting in parks when it wasn’t too cold outside. As the seasons moved on and it grew chillier and chillier outside, Gabriel casually suggested that Jack come over to his place to hang out. “It’s a Sunday,” he said, “There’s a game on, I don’t have to be at the station tonight. Come over, we can have a few drinks, eat some greasy game food. Just bring some beer with you.”

Jack felt nervous, stomach fluttering as he walked up to Gabriel’s apartment, six-pack in hand, and he didn’t know why. Well, no, he knew why. He was nervous because he was going to be alone with Gabriel, as in alone-alone. Not in public, not surrounded by other people, just him and Gabriel in his apartment. Which he lived in alone.

And Jack wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it. As he’d hung out with Gabriel more, gotten to know him better, the man had become not just his best friend, but also, Jack was pretty certain, the love of his life. Jack felt like he’d known Gabriel for years, cherished every story about Gabriel’s past that he’d been told, every secret the other man had entrusted him with. He knew what Gabriel’s favorite color was, and his favorite kind of beer. He knew Gabriel had broken both of his arms when he was seven years old because he’d jumped off the roof of his house, thinking he could fly. Jack knew Gabriel had joined the army because his dad had been an officer, had fought for and served his country and expected his eldest son to do the same. He knew that Gabriel liked the camaraderie that came with being in the military, but didn’t like what he was asked to do sometimes. He knew that Gabriel had been honorably discharged after his unit had been attacked by an IED, which had left Gabriel in a hospital for a while, and had left the twin scars on his face.

Jack knew a lot about Gabriel. And he also knew that Gabriel was sarcastic, and funny, that he projected a bit of a gruff and pissed off atmosphere but also knew how to let that go and help those in need. He knew he loved music, that he went to therapy, and that he desperately missed his _abuela_ ’s sopapillas. And Jack knew he loved Gabriel.

So he was nervous, like he was going over to his middle school crush’s house for the first time.

Swallowing, Jack steeled himself and knocked on Gabriel’s door, which swung open almost immediately. Gabriel smiled at him from the other side. “Hey, Jack!” he said, standing to one side to let Jack in. “Welcome to _Casa Reyes_.”

Looking around, Jack headed to what looked like the kitchen table and set the beer down. Gabriel’s apartment was covered in music and musical paraphernalia. Posters of various bands hung on the walls and were partially obscured by towering stacks of discs, vinyls, and tapes. Through an open door off the living room, Jack could see the corner of what he presumed was Gabriel’s bed, neatly made. A large television stood against one wall, the pre-game talking heads chattering away to each other, muted.

A large record player and a stereo sat next to each other along another wall. They both looked expensive, and Gabriel’s laptop sat a desk next to them, what looked like a playlist Gabriel was putting together on its screen.

“I like your apartment,” Jack said, glancing at Gabriel. “It’s very you.”

“Thanks,” Gabriel said. “I know I could probably just have all these discs and things downloaded on my computer, but sometimes it’s nice to be able to hear it from a set of real speakers. Anyway, let’s open the beer and watch the game! I just put some stuff in the oven, it should be ready in thirty minutes or so.”

Jack opened two of the beers, handing one to Gabriel and sitting down on the comfortable couch. Gabriel sat down next to him, close enough that Jack could feel the heat coming from the other man’s body, radiating along his side. Jack shifted. Had he meant to sit that close? He must have, right? He knew Jack was already sitting, so his choice was deliberate. Unless that was where he always sat on his own couch, and it was just a muscle memory kind of thing? And now Jack was making _him_ uncomfortable by being so close? Oh, god, what was he supposed to do--

Gabriel cut off Jack’s inner freakout with a short laugh. “Relax, Jack,” he said. “You’re going to give yourself a cramp with the way you’re tensing up right now.” He shifted slightly, turning to look at Jack. “You’re alright, yeah? Do you feel comfortable here? It’s fine if you don’t, I won’t be offended.”

Jack nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, sorry. Just wasn’t expecting, uhh, your couch to have this much give.” He bounced a bit, desperate to illustrate his point, sinking into the couch a bit.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Alright,” he said simply before turning back to the game. Jack felt himself relax as they started to talk about the teams, cracking jokes at the commentators’ expense and ridiculing the coaches.

When the game finished, Jack was surprised to find that he and Gabriel had gravitated towards one another on the couch so that they were sitting almost right next to each other. Gabriel’s arm was thrown across the back, almost right across Jack’s shoulders, and he longed to sink into Gabriel’s hold. He felt warm, and comfortable, and a little buzzed thanks to the amount of beer both of them had consumed.

Jack was looking slightly up at Gabriel, watching with a small smile on his lips as the other man said something about the LA Rams and how godawful they were playing this year. Suddenly, Gabriel looked down at him, eyes seeming to refocus on Jack’s face, on his smile. Gabriel stopped talking, and Jack furrowed his brow, confused why he just cut himself off.

And then Gabriel kissed him.

It was slow and sweet, just a soft press of closed lips against closed lips, Gabriel moving against Jack’s mouth slightly before pulling away and leaning his forehead against Jack’s. Jack stared at him in shock, brain effectively derailed.

“Sorry,” Gabriel whispered into the small space between them, breath warm and slightly beer-scented against Jack’s lips. “Sorry, I just--I had to.”

“God, Gabe,” Jack said, bringing his hand up to Gabriel’s face and kissing him. Only this one wasn’t so soft and sweet, Jack opening his mouth against Gabriel’s and licking against his lips, nudging his tongue inside the other man’s mouth. He moaned as Gabriel seemed to get on board, kissing Jack back just as hard, if not harder, nipping at Jack’s lower lip and then soothing it with his tongue.

The angle they were sitting at on the couch was slightly awkward, and Jack slid forward slightly, Gabriel’s large hands at his waist encouraging him, slipping up under his shirt to his skin, pulling him up and around until Jack was straddling Gabriel’s lap on the couch. Jack plied his advantage, suddenly up above Gabriel, kissing him deeply, breaking off with a gasp as Gabriel’s hands cupped his ass, squeezing his cheeks in both hands. He whimpered as Gabriel began kissing his neck, nipping and sucking small red marks into the skin.

“Ah--Gabe!” Jack whined, hips rocking slightly. God, that felt so good, he could feel Gabriel’s hardening cock against his own through several layers of fabric.

“Shit, Jackie,” Gabriel growled against his throat. Jack gasped again, whining slightly as Gabriel pushed him back a bit. “We aren’t going too fast for you, right?” Gabriel asked seriously, staring up at Jack. “Because if we are, just say the word.”

“No,” said Jack. “We’re not going too fast. Unless--” he paused, suddenly considering something, “Unless we’re going too fast for you?” He bit his tender lower lip, waiting for the answer.

Gabriel grabbed him by the back of his head, curling his fingers through Jack’s blonde hair, bringing him down for another biting kiss. “No,” he said, “This is perfect. You’re perfect, Jackie.”

Jack felt himself flush, but he moaned and rutted against Gabriel again, fully hard now in his jeans, which was pretty uncomfortable. But he didn’t want to let go of Gabriel to undo his pants.

Thankfully, Gabriel reached down between them, flicking first Jack’s pants and then his own open, drawing their cocks out and grasping them together. The friction was dry and a little uncomfortable, but Jack wasn’t going to pass up even a second of being held in Gabriel’s large, warm, capable hand.

Gabriel stroked them together several times, both of them groaning into each other’s mouths. Suddenly, Gabriel drew away, pushing gently on Jack’s hips to make him stand up. Jack looked at him in confusion--was he changing his mind? Had Jack done something wrong? But Gabriel stripped off his shirt and dropped his pants and underwear where he was standing, tossing them to the floor before striding towards the open bedroom door.

Jack stood there, frozen, unsure what was happening, staring at Gabriel’s magnificent ass. He whipped his gaze back up to Gabriel’s face when he realized the other man had stopped in the doorway, a smirk playing across the other man’s mouth. Jack felt himself turn bright red at having been caught staring.

“You coming or what?” Gabriel asked, walking into the bedroom and chuckling at his own joke.

Jack blinked, brain trying to reboot. As soon as comprehension hit, he tore off his clothes as fast as possible before nearly running into the room. Gabriel was laid out on the bed on his back, an uncapped tube of lube and several condoms on the nightstand next to him, fist working his cock, which was now shiny and slick with the lube. He raised an eyebrow at Jack from where he lay.

Scrambling onto the bed, Jack crawled over Gabriel, who stopped touching himself to draw Jack down and into another kiss. God, Jack could kiss Gabriel forever, feel those lips against his, revel in the scratch of Gabriel’s beard against his face. Gabriel coaxed Jack into laying against him, Jack’s legs spread on either side of Gabriel’s hips, feeling the muscle underneath his thighs. A hand trailed down Jack’s back, fingers slippery and wet, to prod against Jack’s hole, gentle and exploratory. Jack broke the kiss, hiding his face in Gabriel’s neck, a noise that he claimed was definitely not a whimper climbing out of his throat.

“Relax, _cari_ _ñ_ _o_ ,”  Gabriel said, finger tracing around the rim of Jack’s hole, soothing, without pushing in. Jack buried his face farther into Gabriel’s neck, kissing the skin there slightly. He felt Gabriel’s other hand come down, grasp one of his asscheeks and pull it wide, giving himself more room. “I got you,” Gabriel murmured, tone heavy with warmth and lust.

He slipped just the tip of his finger inside Jack, who pushed back slightly into the stretch. “You ever done with before, _mi sol_?” Gabriel asked, wiggling the tip of his finger back and forth, stretching Jack out a little more.

Jack pushed himself up slightly, looking down at Gabriel, whose eyes were hooded, pupils expanded with lust and adoration as he looked back up at Jack. “A very long time ago,” Jack said simply. “Haven’t really--” he gasped as Gabriel drizzled some cold lube over his hole, pushing his finger in more, “--really had the chance to for a while.”

“Mmm, I can tell,” Gabriel said, nosing at Jack’s throat and sucking a mark into it. “You’re so tight, _cari_ _ñ_ _o_ , gotta get you loosened up for me.”

Jack shuddered, felt Gabriel push his first finger in all the way to the second knuckle. Gabriel chuckled against his throat. “Yeah, you want that, Jackie? You want me to fuck you?” he growled, voice throaty and low.

“Fuck, Gabe,” Jack panted, squirming on top of Gabriel, feeling his finger stroke along his sensitive walls. “Fuck, yes, please, I want it, fuck me please Gabriel--” he broke off with a cry as Gabriel’s finger brushed against his prostate, just one simple touch sending fireworks through his nerves. “Ah--yes, please, more!”

Gabriel withdrew his finger, but before Jack could mourn the loss, he pushed two back in, deep, twisting and scissoring them almost immediately. Jack felt like he was almost sobbing, panting against Gabriel’s chest, rutting his hips back against Gabriel’s fingers and then forward, dragging his achingly hard cock along Gabriel’s abs. Their cocks brushed at one point, and Jack gasped, reaching between them to stroke them together, the way made much easier now with the layer of lube Gabriel had applied.

“Shit, Jack, look at you,” Gabriel whispered, eyes dark and blazing in his face. “You look so good like this. You’ll look even better on my cock.” Jack clenched at Gabriel’s words, relaxing again almost immediately as he felt Gabriel start to press a third finger inside him.

“Yeah,” he moaned, dropping his head to stare at his hand, still stroking him and Gabriel together. Gabriel pressed his fingers into Jack’s prostate again, causing him to jerk, a bead of precome spilling out of his cock and over his fingers.

Suddenly Gabriel withdrew his fingers and rolled them over in the bed, Jack now pinned under him, flushed and panting. Gabriel pulled Jack up until just his shoulders were laying against the bed, his hips held up by one of Gabriel’s arms around his waist. Coating his fingers again, Gabriel slipped the three back inside Jack, able to go deeper with the new angle, nosing at Jack’s balls at the same time before licking a stripe up them and to Jack’s dick.

Jack threw his head back into the bed, struggling not to come as Gabriel licked and sucked his way up and down his cock, continuing to stretch Jack at the same time. He grabbed a fistful of Gabriel’s dark curls, trying to rut his hips and failing miserably. “Gabe, please,” he panted, the sensations suddenly nearly overwhelming. “Gabe, Gabe, please, I’m about to--oh, god, please, fuck, stop, you have to stop--”

Gabriel immediately sat up, removing his fingers, looking at Jack for any signs of discomfort or pain. “What is it, _cari_ _ñ_ _o_?” he asked, worry in his voice. “What’s wrong, what do you need?”

Jack chuckled, touched by Gabriel’s compliance. “Nothing’s wrong,” he reassured the other man. “Just, if you don’t want me to come before you fuck me, then you’d better get in me fast.” He blushed as he said the words, but Gabriel just grinned predatorily.

“Oh, is that so,” he practically purred, easing Jack’s hips back to the bed and stretching out over top of him, grasping Jack’s wrists and pulling them up over his head, pinning them to the bed. “So you’re saying I should get on with it, huh?” He rocked his hips against Jack’s dragging their cocks against one another and pulling a gasp out of Jack.

“Yes, you bastard,” Jack grit out, focusing on not coming. God, he was so ready for Gabriel to fuck him, loose and relaxed but also wound tight, like he could explode any minute. “Please, fuck me Gabe, fuck me so hard, I need--ah!”

Jack cried out as Gabriel bent down and bit his right nipple, licking over it in apology before sitting back up and reaching for one of the condoms. He tore it open and rolled it down his cock, slicking it up with more lube before rubbing the head against Jack’s hole.

“Ready, _mi luz_?” he asked, smirking slightly down at Jack, who glared back up at him.

“For the last time, Gabe, yes! Fuck me already--” Jack cut off, choking on his words as Gabriel pushed into him, the fat head of his cock slipping past the initial resistance and into Jack’s heat. “Ah, fuck yes, Gabe, please,” Jack said, a whimper caught in his throat, hands coming up and around Gabriel’s back, feeling the muscle shift beneath his fingertips as Gabriel slowly worked his cock into him.

“So good, so good, yes yes, please, more, fuck me Gabe!” Jack knew he was muttering nonsense, but it just felt too good, having Gabriel inside him, hard and blazing right into his core.

“ _Cari_ _ñ_ _o_ ,” Gabriel whispered, kissing the space behind Jack’s ear, finally all the way inside. He gave Jack a few moments to breathe and adjust. “You good?” he asked, nose pressed against the side of Jack’s head, buried in his hair.

“Yeah,” Jack breathed out, feeling the ache deep inside him, needing Gabriel to move. God, he wanted to feel him so badly. “Yeah, yeah, please, move, please,” he cut himself off with a groan as Gabriel began pulling out before pushing back in, slow and careful. “I’m not gonna break, Gabe,” Jack said, wrapping his legs around Gabriel’s hips.

“I know you won’t, _mi sol_ ,” Gabriel said. “But please, just this for now. I-I need just this for now,” he muttered, sounding almost broken. Jack closed his eyes, squeezing Gabriel’s waist with his legs and clutching his back harder.

“Of course,” he whispered back. “Whatever you need.”

Gabriel moved like that for a few minutes, slowly, carefully, trembling slightly before seeming to calm down. He lifted his head from where he’d had it buried between Jack’s neck and the bed, looking into Jack’s eyes. “Thanks, _cari_ _ñ_ _o_ ,” he whispered against Jack’s lips, kissing him deeply as his hips began speeding up incrementally, pulsing harder and harder into Jack.

It wasn’t long before Gabriel was driving into him, hips snapping against Jack’s ass as he pounded into him. Jack was crying out with every thrust, had to throw his hands over his head and press against the headboard to stop himself from moving up the bed. His legs slipped from around Gabriel’s waist, but Gabriel just sat up, grasping Jack’s thighs in his hands and then pushing them up against his chest, folding Jack up until his hips were lifted off the bed once again.

Jack couldn’t stop the little stuttered noises from escaping his throat on every thrust, his cock pulsing against his stomach, the tip dragging slightly along it with every pulse of Gabriel’s hips. “Please, Gabe, touch me,” he begged, “I need it, please, touch me, god, please!” He broke off with a shout as Gabriel propped one of his legs up on his shoulder, reaching down between them to wrap his hand around Jack’s cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts.

“God, Jackie, you look perfect,” Gabriel breathed, eyes fixed on Jack’s face. “That’s it, I know you’re close. Come for me, Jack, come on, come for me, I know you need it, god, yeah, come for me, _cari_ _ñ_ _o_.”

Jack felt his body lock up as he started to come, another shout tearing from his throat as he threw his head back and came all up his chest and over Gabriel’s fingers, pleasure pulsing through him in white hot sheets. He came down, oversensitized, as he heard Gabriel let out a groan, hips stuttering against Jack’s ass as he thrust a few more times before coming, filling the condom. His hand squeezed Jack’s oversensitive cock again, tearing another moan out of Jack. Gabriel nearly collapsed on top of Jack, pulling out and rolling to the side instead. He panted for a moment, catching his breath, then pulled off the condom and dropped it in the wastebasket next to the bed.

Jack lay there, slightly stunned by what had just happened. He felt Gabriel gather him up, was pulled into the other man’s arms, could feel the warmth of his chest at his back.

“Gabe?” he whispered, feeling the lids of his eyes sliding down. He was exhausted, could feel himself slipping slowly but surely into sleep.

“Yeah, Jack?” Gabe whispered back, his lips moving against the back of Jack’s neck.

“I love you,” Jack said, breathed it out. He felt Gabriel’s arms tighten around him. “And I’m sorry if I wake you up with my nightmares tonight.”

Gabriel kissed the top of his head. “ _Te amo_ , Jack. I love you too. And we’ll work on it together.”

Jack fell asleep, humming the tune to “Silent Movies.”

**Author's Note:**

> The song I reference is ["Silent Movies"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EyHprvSBHWw) by Madisen Ward and the Mama Bear. I think this song would be something both Jack and Gabe would like--Jack because it's a little more country, and Gabe because he really likes the way the vocals work together with the instruments, and the kinds of things they sing about.
> 
> Also, let me know if you think I should add any other tags to this. I think I covered them all, but I might have missed something! Thank you!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Voices Pulled From Air](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159170) by [synteis_records (synteis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/synteis/pseuds/synteis_records)




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